Luke in Darkness
by W.Blackbird
Summary: Padme muses on the changes that come with being a mother.


Prompt: Child

Padmé isn't listening to whomever's droning on now during the Loyalist meeting. She should be. She knows she should be, but rumours of Anakin's death are petering about the Senate, and Padmé doesn't see how she can concentrate at the moment. She's gotten no sleep, as being pregnant can do that to you. She's worrying about her political career, as carrying the children of a Jedi, especially a well-known Jedi, can do that to you. Does it honestly matter that much if she's not paying attention? She'll be leaving soon anyway.

This is a scary thought for Padmé. She knows nothing about children. She's been in politics since she was eight, and she can't even begin to imagine what it might be like to be outside that, although as frustrating as the Senate is right now, it might be a relief. She's thought a lot about this. She's had to, and she reasons she can always go back to the RRM if she still wants to contribute to society in more ways than being a mother. Working with refugees is familiar, and important work, and it even sets a good example for the child she's carrying by teaching character and moral values. It had certainly influenced her growing up. It's the reason she entered politics in the first place. She had seen Uncle Ono, and her father raising awareness in the Senate, seen the suffering of fellow beings, and had wanted to do more to help. That was something she would like to share with the baby. She's wanted so long to be a mother. This was something they could do together, like she'd used to do with her dad. She quite likes this plan. She can certainly help in other ways, even if it's not in the Senate, which is reassuring as Padmé's sure she could never be content to just do nothing, and leaving the Senate, politics, is such a big change. Even so, she hates how she is being forced to make these decisions about her family's future without even discussing it with her husband, how she'd bought a house in the Lake Country without even discussing it with him. Even though, she doubts he would mind, or disagree with the choices she's made so far, he should have been there; he should be here. He doesn't even know he's going to be a father, and she's already five standard months pregnant. What if she has to name the baby without him too? It's a devastating thought.

Worse than the worry of the decisions she is making without her husband is the niggling, possibly irrational, fears that flutter through her thoughts, but refuse to leave once they come. Maybe Anakin is dead, and that is why she's pregnant. She vacillates between thinking that it's only fair that if she must lose her Ani that she should at least get to have his child, and that it is distinctly unfair to be a widow at just twenty-eight years, and to have to raise a child alone: A child who would never know their father, who had never even known he was going to be a father, let alone get to have the privilege of raising his child. It's not fair to Anakin either. Then the fears get worse. What if the war goes on for centuries like the ancient Sith Wars? What if she gives birth, alone no less, to Anakin's only child, only to lose that treasured child on the battlefield when he or she, (she thinks it is a he though), goes to war like his Daddy? Padmé has more nightmares now than ever. The more you have, the more you can lose, she supposes.

She tries to the see the blessing in it though, tries to be happy that she still has things to lose, and this child really, truly is a blessing, in spite of all the change that invites the fear of the unknown. When she's not frustrated by morning sickness, all the time sickness really, or swelling feet, or feeling like a shaak, or cravings, or back pain, she does bask in the knowledge that Anakin, parts of her beloved, is what is swelling her up in the first place. He is always with her in a tangible way now. He is inside her, always, and she carries him with her everywhere in a far more obvious fashion. Sex made permanent, you could say: Making love physical. Their child is a living, soon to be breathing, proof that they love each other, are one with each other, bound together. This is a beautiful blessing. She and Anakin spend far too much time apart. Their relationship is kept secret. No one really knows the truth of them, but now their fusing of one body, one soul has been made permanent. It is the greatest miracle Padmé has ever experienced, and in spite of everything, she finds herself beyond grateful for it. The baby kicks, and Padmé cautiously raises a hand to place over her abdomen, and tries to hide what would seem like an inappropriate smile. She feels utterly lost and alone at times, but then Luke brings the light into her darkness: I'm here, Mommy.

A/N: I wrote that Padme bought a house in the Lake Country, because of her comment to Anakin in RoTS that she knows just the place for the baby's room. However, as Varykino is owned by her family, not her, I just decided to headcanon that Padme bought a house there when she realised she was pregnant. It's private there, so it's the perfect place to raise the baby as the scandal dies down. She also just loves it there. it's beautiful, and it's got good memories for her, and if Anakin does leave her a widow, that's doubly important. She's also pretty sure that Anakin won't mind them living there. For all those reasons, she thinks it's a sound, and sensible decision.


End file.
